


An Exploration of Force

by acidrei



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Amestris, BDSM, Dom/sub, Fullmetal Alchemist AU, M/M, Painplay, Praise Kink, Rimming, Spanking, Sub Levi, dom eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 03:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidrei/pseuds/acidrei
Summary: It starts out as a professional relationship—Eren as an automail mechanic and Levi as his client. What Eren doesn't know is how it evolves to him bending Levi over and flogging him till he's begging to be fucked. That said, he's not complaining.





	An Exploration of Force

**Author's Note:**

> Substantially aged-up Eren at a spry 28. Levi at 33.  
> This work assumes the reader already has a moderate understanding of BDSM and some of its simple terminologies/practices.
> 
> You don't have to know anything about Fullmetal Alchemist to read this. For those familiar with FMA, just think of this world as Amestris without alchemy and with more wars (I know, the worst combination. Why did I choose this? I can firmly tell you that I don't know. alright great start lol)

When Eren was five, he got his first pet. It was a small goldfish gifted to him by his uncle. Its fins moved like weak flames, a mere gust of wind from being extinguished. It was delicate. It died in Eren's hand, squished between his clumsy, chubby fingers.

When Eren was fourteen, he took his first punch. It was terribly executed but still hurt like no other against his frail jaw. When he threw one back, he suffered his first broken bones—ring finger on the right hand and the thumb, inexpertly tucked under his fingers.

When Eren was twenty-two, he entered his first scene. It was with a man he knew well and trusted, and who later came to teach him plenty. Eren was left with minor bruises afterward, which would prickle pleasantly when he would apply pressure to them.

Force is a beast of many forms. Eren knows it too well.

 ---

"That hurts," Levi says.

Eren hums. "It's unavoidable."

Levi removes his gaze from Eren and stares straight ahead. "Fine."

Fine.

The Amestris military has a lot to say about this man—Levi. Eren, too, has a lot to say about this man. Snippy, to start. But according to others he is, supposedly, the finest warrior they've got. A man whose body moves like water. A man who knows the weight of a sword, of an army, of a life.

Still— _fine_ , he says.

Eren respects the man for what he is, but the greatest soldier in the nation could do without the attitude.

Eren tightens the bolt on the inner elbow joint. It's a tiny piece, but it's a crucial part of a greater system in place along the inner arm that keeps stress off the cords. The only problem with working in this area is the nervous feedback to the patient. The pain is a deep, aching sensation that travels through the body like cracks through dry mud. Eren has never felt it, but his empathy is something he trusts more than anything; he is always sure to look at the patient's face.

But Levi's face reveals nothing.

"Most of my patients are screaming at this point," Eren says. It's a habit to talk to his patients when he is performing something that may be uncomfortable, but he realizes drawing attention to the pain may not be so productive. But Levi is the best, supposedly. Eren would like to know more about the best. When Levi says nothing, Eren goes on. "By now I would even consider you an anomaly."

Levi looks at him. His neck is upright and strong. Phenomenal posture, Eren notes, and thinks about running his hand down the healthy, well-balanced notches of Levi's spine, likely welded in place between sets of firm back muscles. Very firm.

"What?"

Eren shrugs and looks down at his work. "Pain isn't a universal experience. I just know this hurts like a bitch for most people."

"It hurts." Levi looks straight ahead again. His face reveals absolutely nothing, and Eren is perplexed because for the first time in his career, his ability to read a patient is failing him. "I told you that."

"Well. I suppose you did."

Force can vary in its forms. This time it takes the form of tension. It's strong and hot and feels like Levi's skin under Eren's fingers.

Eren swaps tools. He tightens another bolt and notices Levi's flinch. As much as Eren does not want to admit he likes it—he does. He likes it a whole fucking lot. Levi's gaze is palpable. It stings not of pain but of caution. Caution tickles Eren's skin like an insect as he reaches for another tool, this time a smaller one for a smaller piece. When he reaches in and bends a wire back into place, Levi gasps. Eren likes it. That much can be admissible. But why does he like it, and is it a passable reason? He needs time to think. A person's reasons are not always clear to them—and clearly not when faced with such anomalies.

"How bad does it hurt?" Eren asks.

Levi smiles and huffs a laugh through his nose. His lips are pale pink and thin.

Eren likes it.

"About as much as you would expect it to. Well—" Levi looks pointedly at Eren's arm, the flesh and scars and hot blood held inside. "Imagine getting hit in the funny bone, but a lot worse. A lot. Why do you ask?"

Eren shrugs and puts his tool away. "I wanted to know."

"To know how it hurt me?"

Eren's neck flushes around his collar, which he hopes isn't visible, because a blush to an only- _slightly-_ less-than casual remark as such would feel somehow more incriminating.

"Well, not exactly. I mean **—** not at all. Or not quite. You know—" Eren stumbles. It's embarrassing, only a little. Embarrassing except for the fact that it makes Levi's gaze focus in on him, and he looks so damn good that the heat Eren feels rising in his skin is not entirely due to shame. Levi's smirk is everything you would expect from the military's greatest. "Ignore what I said. I'm not even sure of the answer I was looking for. Do you have my contact?"

Eren stands, and he feels Levi's gaze on him like molten lead, a feeling he wouldn't mind being consumed by. He seems taken aback by Eren's abruptness.

"Yeah. It's in the files."

That's military speak for  _I don't care._ Eren's been in this long enough to know. Every now and then he gets clients referred from the military because he's registered as a state mechanic, which means his work is deemed good enough to be given to military personnel. In reality it's a clout badge more than anything, which is why he never flaunts it. He knows his work is good, better than good. No badge or position can tell him more on that.

"Good.

Eren packs up his tools and takes extreme care not to rush. If anything, he would like to leave appearing poised. Being poised means being attractive. In front of Levi, being attractive is something Eren already knows he wants to do. This much he's already figured out.

"Call me if there's any complications." He's sure to smile on his way out, because he knows he can be charming when he needs to be.

 ---

Eren used to be involved in the Scene. When he talks about it now, when he even dares to talk about it at all, he mentions it only in passing and only as it relates to something else. His closest friends only know of his involvement, and maybe a funny story or two.

The real extent of it is known only to people he doesn’t speak to at all at this point in his life. Now he is just an automail mechanic. It's simple and expected, as blood is to wounds.

 ---

Levi is back in Eren's hands in three months.

"So what's the deal?" Eren grins and pulls a chair up. This is part of his job; he gets called to residences around the district to fix automail. But it's rare that he sees a patient often. "I work years never seeing our best soldier, and then I seem him twice in the span of a few months."

"You don't become the best by losing."

"Well said." Eren holds his hand out for Levi's arm. It's smooth and hard and destroyed. "Although—I wouldn't say that you lost, per se."

"You follow war politics?"

Eren laughs and shakes his head. "Fuck politics. You're still alive. That’s all I meant. All I know."

Levi nods, and it does not look like he's paying attention. "I wish that was all I knew."

"Oh, I can imagine." Wires drip out of Levi's fragmented automail and Eren lifts it to the lamplight. What remains of the metal body gleams, and it looks vile and alive. To see something that looks so human that has been so utterly destroyed is frightening. A reminder of the fragility of the body. "Can I ask how this happened?"

"You can ask me anything." Levi's tone is flippant. He sits back and relaxes his shoulder. His automail is attached at the shoulder and leaves a hideous, pitted scar that extends under the sleeve Levi has rolled up. It's heavy, monstrously so, and Eren winces.

"Who made this?" he asks.

Levi looks over and raises his eyebrows briefly. "I don't know. It was issued to me by the military. I woke up with it on after a battle."

Eren hums. "It's heavy." He plays with the weight and feels it, lets the pressure of the metal give him a weak sense of what Levi feels. "Every day, huh? How's your back?"

"Can you fix my arm or what?" Levi says with a chuckle.

"Let me give you a new one." When Eren sees Levi's expression, he laughs. "Really. The makeup of this metal hinders you. Too much steel for your size." He taps it with a fingernail.

Many people have a deep emotional attachment to their automail (and a comment on a man's size is rarely taken without at least a hint of indignation). For this reason, Eren expects Levi to bristle. The fact that he doesn't tells Eren a lot.

"How do you know?"

"I can feel it."

"Expert's intuition?"

"Well, I hesitate to call myself an expert. But I can give you something better than this, I promise you that."

Levi pulls his arm back from Eren's hands and places it on the wooden armrest with a clunk. The sound of metal and wood and two very different people, breathing.

Levi shrugs. "Sure. Why not."

 ---

Eren knows the weight of being entrusted with making someone's automail. It will be their body. Not an extension, or an enhancement. Eren believes the spirit of a human resides in their hands, and the things they do. The automail becomes part of who they are.

For Levi, this automail will be more. It will be the balance of his body as he fights; it will be the speed at which he can run; it will be his life, and his death. Eren wonders if it's too morbid a thought, picturing how Levi's blood will look on this metal when he dies, inevitably, in combat. As nice as it is to say, people like Levi do not get peaceful deaths.

When Levi dies it will be this automail that's on his body.

But when Levi lives it will be this automail that helps him do it.

Blood and metal and intimacy. Eren's mind is full of useless things.

 _Chrome, carbon fibre,_ he begins to list off. _Aluminum, maybe._

 ---

While Eren constructs Levi's new automail, the sleeve of his right arm dangles to his side, empty. For Eren, it is nothing new to see. After years of working as an automail mechanic, as both apprentice and head of his shop, there is little in day-to-day life that is new to him.

But it is an honest fact that he has never seen a man like Levi.

Eren stretches the tape from the socket of Levi's shoulder to the tip of his thin middle finger. He presses the end into the skin and feels the muscle, how it gives and molds to his strong fingers. You're strong, he thinks, but would never say.

"Turn, please."

Levi is small. Eren hadn't realized it at first, when he had only seen him sitting. He's probably about 20 cm shorter than Eren, give or take some. To know the sheer strength of a man while looking down on him is something Eren is not unfamiliar with. It's just been a while. He wonders how a man as powerful as Levi would look on his knees.

Eren sits and taps his pen on his clipboard. It's a dull sound— _thk, thk_ —along with the buzz of the kerosene lamp.

"As for the metallurgical makeup, I had some ideas. But ultimately it's up to you." He flips his clipboard and shows Levi his sketches and notes. "These are some rough plans."

"They're nice. You're skilled."

"I—thanks." Eren coughs. The sincerity of the words make him blush. "Um—down here—those are the metals I've though about using. My focus to begin with was to reduce the weight, but I realize that may not be your first concern. And I figured—how long have you had this automail?"

"A decade or so."

"I figured, if you've been living and fighting comfortably for a decade with this automail, my focus should be on _enhancement_ , not drastic change. I mean, personally, I think heavy automail can be inhibiting, but of course it depends on the individual. That said, in my professional opinion, as valuable as weight can be to an automail, which I don't devalue at all, and I do think th—"

"Just tell me, Jaeger."

"I—" Eren laughs nervously.

Levi levels him with a gaze weighted with expectation. His grey eyes know power. It makes Eren want all Levi has to give—his respect, his trust, his submission. It must take a lot to make a man that powerful buckle. But all men buckle. When put under enough pressure, all things buckle. Eren knows this. He's seen it firsthand. He's seen metal warp and fold under intense heat and an iron hammer. He's seen the work of genius mechanics snap in the cold when the bolts froze up. He's seen the extent of force that things can handle until they bend, break, buckle.

"Steel is strong. It's heavy. It's good defense, and it's good offense, especially in a moving object. Still, I would say it's more suited to a leg. I want to use carbon-fibre to reduce the weight as much as I can, and a few other alloys to help reduce rust and to make it more adaptable to certain environments—the cold, mainly. The big question is how much steel to use."

"Okay." Levi shrugs. He's so indifferent it's almost infuriating. "You're the expert. I don't care what you do. Just do it right."

Eren blinks.

Levi stares back.

They hold each other there until the tension threatens to flay Eren's skin, and he looks away—

No.

He buckles.

 ---

He gets Levi to show him how he fights.

He needs to know how Levi balances his weight when he moves. The sway of his run. How his torso shifts when he swings his leg. Every way he generates velocity with his body and any way the velocity shifts him—all of it. Notebook in hand, Eren scrawls out some notes, some sketches, anything to capture Levi in this moment. His body moves like air, steady but fluid, still but in motion until—

There's a blunt _thunk_ as Levi's calf connects with the side of the punching bag, and the material gives. The chain holding it up trembles, followed by a light clanking as the metal pieces touch. It's silent as Levi hops back and steadies himself before he's back in motion again.

His body is off balance.

Eren squints, confused, trying to understand it. His eyes trace the lines—flexed thigh, glute, up to the hip, along the relaxed torso and to the ball of his shoulder joint, to the arm. For the time being, Levi's wearing a temporary arm, pure steel but hollow, very light and simple just until the real product is finished.

Off balance.

Levi's weight isn't moving the same way Eren's other patients' tend to. There's something different— _something_. His movements are so precise that it's near impossible to tell.

Eren looks closer and studies him. A kick. Sweatpants tightening over the calf. Three successive punches. Athletic arms, tensed. Shirt pulling up. Pale, seamless skin.

Levi owns the force he exerts. He plays with it gracefully, and he looks well-learned in its handling—perhaps as well-learned as Eren. Attraction wells up inside him. He feel it hot and hard between his legs. He swallows, shifts, and makes sure his clipboard is well-placed over his groin.

 ---

"I have a leg, too," Levi says one day.

"Hm?"

"I have a leg."

Eren smiles. He's finishing up the final precise measuring of Levi's proportions. "I have one as well." He turns his back to Levi and sorts through the mess on his desk to find his notebook. "In fact, I hear that many people have legs. Some even have two."

Levi clicks his tongue with derision. "You know what I mean."

Eren turns, and gestures to the chair next to the desk. "I do. I’m just playing, Levi." It's a blunt name, meant to be venerated. Nothing would suit such a man more. "Sit. If you want me to make you a leg, you have my word: I will. The only thing left is whether you want to trust me with that."

"I wouldn't ask you if I didn't trust you."

Eren nods. Levi is already rolling up his pant leg—left. It peels back to reveal a weathered but well-tended piece of automail. Eren kneels down and lifts Levi's leg into his lap. The automail connects at his knee. So there's the reason; this is why he seemed off-balance that day. Normally, Eren could ballpark the weight of someone's automail by eyeing the sway of their walk. He could look at someone's stance and know, if not exactly where, that the person is at least an automail-user. But Levi has proven himself to be an anomaly in ways more than one.

"Heavy," Eren comments offhandedly. "More than I would've thought for something this small." He feels a shift in Levi's body and glances up in time to see his cheeks redden, jaw tightened with indignance before he masks it. "Do you know what it's made of?"

"No idea."

"Some parts are made of a different material than the others. How does it fare in the cold?"

"Hurts like a bitch."

"That's it?"

"Basically."

"Do you know the original mechanic?" Eren asks. Levi sighs and gives him a pointed look, which Eren returns with a wry smile. "Should I stop asking?"

"What do you think?"

Eren smiles and shakes his head. To him, automail deserves to be revered. To Levi, its likely more of a tool, something that simply helps the body function, something that keeps the cogs turning.

"I can make your leg," Eren says as he stands, hands on his cracking knees. "And I'll make your arm. It'll cost a lot. And it'll hurt. A lot."

"I know," Levi says.

No nonsense. Eren likes it.

"Good." Then he returns to his uncomfortable seat, picks up his tape measure and turns his attention back to the earlier task.

With an upturned palm, he gestures for Levi's hand. One by one, he measures the length of Levi's fingers, his skin supple against his own.

"What, you don't scar?" Eren comments. He flips Levi's hand to see the back; in Eren's bigger hand, Levi's looks feminine. There's deep folds of skin where the joints are, firm tendons in the wrist, impeccably clean fingernails. Feminine but so, so strong. This is the hand of a fighter. Eren flips it back over. Levi lets him. Eren likes it.

"I don't lose," Levi says.

A smile pulls at the corner of Eren's mouth. He looks up from Levi's elegant fingers and into his eyes, but for the first time in a long time he catches himself completely forgetting what he was going to say. Levi raises a single eyebrow and stares back, gaze like steel. A strand of black hair is falling over his eyes. It's nearly imperceptible, but Eren swears Levi's cheeks go pink.

Everything is so faint in the kerosene lamplight that it's hard to trust the eyes. But Eren likes to trust, so he puts faith in his intuition and deduces—hopes—that Eren's burning interest in Levi is, at least partially, reciprocal.

 ---

"This will hurt," Eren tells Levi.

"I know."

It feels like a ritual now—the two of them, sitting in Eren's workspace or Levi's apartment, subdued voices floating in the silence. It had taken about two months for Eren to make the arm and leg. In that time he had seen Levi only a few times, being graced with his presence—his wit, his bite, his attitude. It's rather surprising how charming Eren finds him, and even more so that Eren wants so often to see him more.

The bolts of Levi's automail clank and grind under the wrench.

Charming as ever, Levi grunts. " _Fuck_."

It takes no more than a second to detach a limb from its housing system. In that second, the individual will feel likely the most excruciating pain they have ever felt. Every nerve disconnecting all at once. The feeling of each being plucked and shredded inside the body. Reattaching a limb is the same. It's like taking blades to the nervous system.

"Do you want a countdown?" Eren asks as he puts the wrench in place. He's starting with the leg.

"No."

Eren cranks the wrench. He doesn't wait because he knows that makes it worse. The old metal groans as it's pried apart. Although Eren's familiar with the process, the pure mechanics of it, he will never truly get used to it. The raw expression of pain and the crudeness to the look of it.

Everyone hurts differently.

Eren knows this.

Levi lets out an agonizing scream and his body curls forward. Even with the painkillers, it is often overwhelming. It's like every muscle in his body goes rigid; Eren can feel the tension radiating off him like heat. It's a violent, candid display of agony, and it suits him. Pain looks good on Levi and Eren is marred with guilt for having this thought. But it is a thought that belongs to him nonetheless. He wants to be responsible for the things he thinks, even the sick things, the questionably moral things. Things like imagining his patient's lithe body laid out and trembling under a leather flogger. Things like imagining his patient on his knees, lips parted, skin reddened where force has been applied.

Eren keeps his eyes on his work.

"Fuck…" Levi murmurs. His panting is evening out. There's a sheen of sweat on his forehead that is visible only when he turns his head a certain way toward the light.

Eren lifts the removed automail leg and puts it to the side, making room for the newly constructed one. It gleams like a weapon. He grins up at Levi, who returns his gaze with a flat stare. Eren laughs and says apologetically:

"Ready?"

Levi jerks his head in a quick nod. There's tension in his jaw as he anticipates the barrage of pain. Eren takes the automail and half-tightens the few bolts around the rim, making sure it's lined up properly to the housing system, and then—

Levi's scream is really like no other. It makes Eren's heart reach out. Sometimes he wishes he could take at least a brunt of it on the behalf of his patients. He sees the wild look in Levi's eyes, the way he can't focus on anything, the grit of his teeth and the _pain_ —all of it, coursing through his body like fire over fuel. Eren quickly finishes up with the remaining bolts to secure the leg in place.

"Just the arm now," Eren reassures, and places a gentle hand on Levi's upper thigh. He's wearing shorts for the process, rolled up on the left leg to expose the warm, soft skin of his thigh. Eren pulls his hand back immediately because he realizes it may be inappropriate. Levi doesn't even seem to notice, hazy with pain.

Eren stands and guides Levi to lie down with one hand on the shoulder blade, the other on the chest. Levi is shirtless and his skin is hot with sweat. Detaching the arm is just as violent.

"Ready?" Eren asks as he moves the new automail into place.

"No," Levi says truthfully. His voice is shaky and weak, which, while Eren had known he would be like this, is so uncharacteristic of him that Eren finds it tough to take in. "Give me a moment."

"It's better to get it over quick. I can try to distract you," Eren says. Levi looks surprised. "I usually do it for all my patients."

"Ah. Sure, then."

Eren quickly gets the automail into place without wasting even the shortest moment.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" he asks, and cranks the wrench.

It's a gamble. But Eren takes chances. He's always been that way.

Levi's scream is just as bad as before, but this time the redness doesn't fade from his cheeks as the pain subsides.

"What the fuck kind of way is that to ask someone out?" Levi mumbles, breathless, turning his head slightly away from Eren.

"My way," Eren says with a cheeky grin. He tightens up the remaining bolts around the rim of the housing system and then begins to put his tools away.

"You do that for all of your patients too?"

"Just the ones I like. Here"—Eren drops two pills in Levi's hand along with a glass of water—"take these. It'll help."

"Thanks." Levi swallows a pill. "And my answer is yes." Then he swallows the other.

"I know."

Levi glares as best he can despite the ordeal his body has been through.

"Get some rest. Your body needs it." Eren steps toward the exit. Levi's eyes are already falling shut.

 ---

Levi calls Eren's office once he's well enough. He asks (tells) Eren to meet him at a café that evening, a small one a few blocks down from Eren's automail shop, of which Eren lives a floor above. Eren's not sure what he expected. The banality of it is quite surprising, given Levi's manner. That said, Eren doesn't know him too well. Maybe this shouldn't be surprising at all.

Eren is right on time. Levi is early.

"I ordered this for you," Levi says without even a greeting, placing a mug on Eren's side of the table as he approaches. He looks striking. The cuffs of his sleeve are creased with precision and his hair is lightly styled. In comparison Eren hasn't done much to his appearance. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling a blush appear on his cheeks.

"Thanks," he says, and sits. He'd known Levi would likely be a classy man. Every visit to Eren's shop, he would always be well put-together, always with his back straight when he walked, always articulate and to-the-point. But the extent of control he seems to have over himself is, to say the absolute least, immaculate.

He's drinking black tea. The way he takes sips is strange; he holds the cup by the rim, palm hovering over the top. He sits with his legs crossed. He doesn't fidget.

"This is my favourite café," Levi tells him. "But I don't come here too often. I don't get the opportunity."

"I can imagine." Eren rests an elbow on the table and leans closer. Lightly put, he knows how to charm. "Must be busy. Amestris' best, right?"

"I…suppose." Levi looks away. "They call me that, yes."

"I've seen you fight, Levi. You don't have to be humble."

"I'm not being humble. I'm being realistic. You can only be the best for so long."

Eren shrugs. "But for the time being, it is accurate for me to say I've successfully charmed the country's greatest soldier. Right?"

"Charmed is a loaded term." The lighting is a dim orange, but Eren can tell, if only faintly, that Levi is blushing.

Watching Levi speak, Eren cannot help his mind from wandering to more personal things—all not explicitly sexual, but undoubtedly rude to say out loud. Things like his romantic life, his sexual history, the specifics of his work, the things he knows that Eren could never even dream. Because there is a gap between them that both are aware of, but don't dare say and instead leave hanging.

This man has killed people.

The thought is like a bullet.

Levi is talking about a cat he owned as a child, and for some fucking reason Eren is thinking about the blood on his hands. His knowledge of death, of sacrifice, of loss. In Eren's mug is a caramel mocha. It's creamy and sweet. It tastes like comfort. Strangely, it makes him wonder if he really is in over his head, and if the complexity of a man like Levi will eventually bulldoze him.

 ---

Levi, Eren notices, does not take care of his automail. Does not appreciate it.

He wants to show Levi how to take care of it, but Levi is stubborn—irritatingly so. They see each other relatively often, having periods where they spend plenty of time together when Levi is off work, interspersed with weeks of not seeing each other at all when Levi is deployed to do field work or simply overwhelmed with paperwork. But even after months, Levi does not take care of his automail.

It—sort of—culminates in an argument.

"You _need_ to do this," Eren says, clearly frustrated. His hand works a cloth over Levi's automail, polishing the upper arm and the elbow joint. "Or it'll get rusty. Steel is steel, no matter how much chrome is in it. There's only so much I can do to prevent that, Levi."

Levi huffs a laugh through his nose. "I oil the joints."

"Not enough. I've told you that."

"I suppose you have." Levi sits back and stares ahead at the wall in Eren's shop.

"Are you— _listening_?" Eren puts his hands on his knees and leans forward in his stool. He brings his face close to Levi's because he wants him to get it. More than anything. "Do you get it?"

This automail is Levi's body. It is him. The curl of the metal fingers around his pen as he writes. The swing of his leg as he walks, the pressure on his spine to balance the weight of all that metal. The grip he can get on Eren's waist when they fuck, the way he has to use caution when pinning Eren down, the way the soft touches are always done with the left.

It's all him.

It's the way he lives. It's the way he dies.

"You're being dramatic," Levi says. It's a harsh tone, icier than the mellow, maybe occasionally exasperated tone he tends to take around Eren.

Eren bristles. Levi is always lovely until he starts to push. " _I'm_ being—"

"If I am ever in a situation where I will die, the state of my automail isn't going to change that. I've fought long enough to know." The statement is like ice water poured down Eren's spine. "The battle I die in will be a battle Amestris loses—but only in that battle. I will fight till I am pushed to the brink." Levi's eyes burn on Eren's skin. His metal hand grips his arm in a show of solidarity. Eren swallows and stupidly feels like he might cry, even though he doesn't know exactly why. "And when I die, it'll be the battle where every other soldier on the field dies. The point is one rusty bolt isn't much."

"That's so easy to just say," Eren says weakly.

Levi shrugs. "Can't mince words. You, as well. If you really plan on being in a relationship with me, you need to know what I know. A single lost battle is nothing in a war. The truth is that when I die, it won't be anything special."

"Don't _say—"_

"No." Levi leans closer. He's so intimidating he makes Eren swallow his words. What Levi lacks in size, he makes up for with virtually everything else: sharp angles to his look, strength of his resolve, and most of all, blunt honesty. Maybe that's what it takes to succeed in a career like his. Honesty. "I need to say this because I need you to get it. I'm just a soldier. Maybe the best. But a soldier still. And soldiers die."

Eren grits his teeth and looks away. There are tears in his eyes and his face is hot with frustration. Levi still has a strong grip on his forearm. With a shaky breath, Eren closes his eyes. He reaches for the cloth and the tin of polish once more, and rubs a bit more onto the cloth. Wordlessly, he removes Levi's grip from his arm and continues to polish the metal.

"All people die," Eren says quietly. "You think I don't know that? Jesus, Levi." He gently runs his fingers up the plates of metal comprising the automail, up to the housing system locked in at Levi's shoulder. He pulls the sleeve up to inspect the scarred, rough tissue melded to the metal, tracing the line where one meets the other. Levi shivers at the touch.

"It's because of your automail that you can walk. That you can fight." Eren looks up, feeling the tickle of a tear as it moves down his cheek. Levi is looking at him, the force of reality pressing them close and pulling them apart at once. "I want you to have appreciation for the life that you have, while you have it. That's all."

It's quiet between them, quiet around them. Just the tick of the clock, the sound of them breathing, and the reminder of how different they are as people.

"Starting with this." Eren squeezes Levi's automail. "Take care of it. Please. For me."

Levi leans in and kisses Eren, soft and slow and molten. Passionate is the only word Eren can use to describe it, and it makes him slowly go rock hard in his pants. He feels silly, tears on his face and an erection between his legs.

But he thinks Levi gets it.

"Fine. For you."

 ---

There are times during sex when Levi is more vocal than others. After a while into their relationship, Eren begins to notice a pattern. Levi often pants and groans and grunts, and might sometimes give Eren a well-earned moan, but the one thing that makes him loud is force. In time they have established general routines and roles, things they like to do and things they like to have done to them. Levi fucks Eren a lot more than Eren fucks Levi. Not to say that Eren doesn't fuck Levi—when he does it is ardent and unforgettable. The sounds Levi makes are equally so.

But—

"Oh my God, yes, fuck me," Levi mutters. His knuckles go white when his grip tightens against the headboard.

Times like these.

"Oh— _oh_. Fuck yeah. I—mmh, _yes."_

Times like there might be Eren's favourites.

The times when Levi wants it rough. It's only in times like these that Eren can really hear what Levi sounds like when drowning in pleasure.

"Eren," he whispers. His voice is breathy, sexy, pained. "Fuck, Eren, harder."

Eren knows how good it can feel to be fucked. The feeling of a hot, thick cock sliding into you. The throb of satisfaction you feel as it fills up your ass, inch by inch, veiny and stiff.

Eren knows how good it can feel to receive force. The vast valley of difference between a bright sting of pain against the skin compared to a deep thud felt to the core. The feeling of a bruise being formed by a possessive, unforgiving hand on the waist telling you: mine.

Eren knows how good Levi feels right now.

He leans forward and rests his weight on Levi's svelte form. He's so small, but resilient like no other. Eren smacks Levi's ass cheek with an open palm. Levi moans like he's pissed about how much he fucking likes it.

Eren bites Levi's soft earlobe, reaches to squeeze and stroke his cock, and revels in the rough sound it rips out of Levi.

"Tell me how much you like it," Eren says.

Levi is always honest: "I fucking love it. I could be fucked forever."

"God." Eren bucks his hips and pushes his cock in as deep into Levi as he can. His balls press against Levi's perineum and he spreads Levi's ass cheeks with the fingers of one wide hand, watching how that perfect asshole swallows his cock. "God, I bet you fucking could."

There's nothing better than the satisfaction of making Levi Ackerman moan. Levi, who is precise, immaculate, collected. Who is respected, and whose respect is sought after. To bend and break a man like that takes more than just force; it takes skill in wielding it. Looking at the marks on Levi's skin, Eren's gut clenches with a primal feeling of ownership. He runs a thumb over a red mark on Levi's waist.

"C'mon," Levi says.

"Yeah," Eren breathes, and picks up the pace.

 ---

"I like when it hurts," Levi tells Eren one day. He's blushing profusely but his face is straight.

Eren's history with the BDSM Scene is something he had never thought about telling Levi. He figured it might come up one day, a long time from now, or simply not at all. It's something insignificant from the past, something he used to do that he now no longer does. But Eren figures there's no more perfect a time than now to bring it up.

It's during this conversation that he again notes that Levi is small. He doesn't think about it often when they fuck, because small as Levi might be, he is ferocious. Eren could never get the upper hand in bed and eventually had stopped trying, letting Levi control when and how Eren could be dominant—which, come to think of it, was never true dominance at all.

And yet here they sit, Levi looking Eren in the eye, saying:

"I want you to dominate me. Hurt me."

There's something hot between them, far too profuse to be comfortable. But the resulting tension is not unpleasant; it is wild and enticing, a gorgeous thing with teeth. Tension is palpable. Force is even more so.

"I can do that," Eren says, holding Levi's strong gaze.

 ---

What Levi wants is, in the end, quite simple, which is usually the case with all other things—practical gifts, straightforward communication, realistic requests. Over the course of multiple discussions and casual conversation in their time together, Eren comes to tell Levi everything he knows about playing safe, while Levi tells him everything he wants. They sit on the bed as Eren talks about how he got started with BDSM and how he phased out of it, a slow and sure process of events that spanned over his early- and mid-twenties. Levi sits and listens, fingers playing with Eren's hair until Eren is practically purring with his head in Levi's lap.

"As for pain play," Eren says, eyes falling closed and a soft smile on his lips, "I used to receive. A lot. Especially in my early years, in which I mostly subbed."

"So you're knowledgeable."

"I'm…familiar," Eren says modestly, grinning.

Levi snorts. "I'd better see this expertise."

"You will. What kind of pain are you looking for?"

After a pause Levi says, "I'm not sure. I don't even know how much I can take—physically and emotionally. I want to be spanked. I know that." His words make Eren's gut burn. He's spanked Levi before, just a little throughout the course of their sex life, but never properly. Never the way he's actually wanted to. He shifts slightly to conceal his growing erection. "And I want to be flogged. Maybe paddled, cropped. Things like that. And probably more. But I'd have to explore."  
Eren nods. Precise as always, Levi has done his research. "How about breaking skin?"

"No."

"Hard limit?"

"For now, yes. I don't know what else I want, but I know I'd want more."

"We can explore. What else?"

"I…like how you talk to me. During sex. I would like more of that. Praise, um, specifically."

"Done."

"You're getting hard." Levi continues to run his fingers through Eren's hair, this time with fingernails scratching the scalp. It draws a contented noise out of Eren and he moans softly in the back of his throat.

"Yeah, well, I'm thinking about spanking your ass—an ass which I fucking love, as I'm sure you know. Can you blame me?" Reaching down, Eren presses the heel of his palm to his hard cock and massages it. It's already making him antsy; he hasn't cum in three days and Levi's body is warm and firm and so, so desirable.

Levi chuckles and gently pushes Eren's hand out of the way to replace it with his own. He squeezes Eren's thick cock through his jeans and smiles when he releases a pleased hum. When Eren looks up he is struck, as always, by Levi's sheer elegance. His eyelashes are thick and dark, framing the darkness and affection that reside in his eyes. Eren feels the breath stripped from his lungs by a force that exists between him and Levi, tangible and smouldering with a deep, magnetic heat. Eyes locked, Levi pops the button on Eren's jeans and pulls the zipper down, tooth by metal tooth. The release of pressure on his cock makes Eren sigh, and he shifts his hips to try to push up against Levi's hand.

He whines when Levi denies him that pleasure and instead traces Eren's waistband. His fingers dance over Eren's hipbone and tickle just enough to make him squirm.

"We're not done our conversation," Eren says, but he's not too bothered.

"Yeah we are. For now." Levi moves Eren off him and sinks to the floor, metal automail knee making an audible clank against the hardwood. "Pull your cock out."

Eren has never moved quicker. He goes a step further and shucks his jeans and underwear to the side, then spreads his knees as he sits on the edge of the bed, allowing room for Levi to move in between them. His tongue is hot and smooth against the underside of Eren's cock.

"Tell me what to do. Tell me I'm good," Levi demands.

Eren exhales shakily and his cock throbs hard in Levi's hand. One thing Eren found incredibly amusing, and strangely endearing, about Levi was that when he lost his arm, it took him quite a while to become comfortable with masturbating with his left. When telling Eren the story, he'd said it was frankly one of the most difficult things about transitioning to automail. Jacking off. He's good with his left now though, very good. Enough to make Eren melt in his hands every time.

"Hand on my balls. Massage them." It's like second nature. In everyday life, giving commands is never Eren's strong point, but things are different in the bedroom, particularly when directed at a man like Levi. Levi, too, takes to commands like a moth to a flame. Maybe it's military, or just his personality, or the trust he has for Eren. "Fuck, good job."

Levi shivers. When he wraps his lips around Eren's cock and takes him deep into his warm, wet throat, Eren groans and continues to whisper praise, moaning when Levi begins to massage his perineum and asshole until all the building stimulation eventually makes Eren cum hard onto Levi's awaiting tongue.

 ---

They start slow. Eren makes sure of that.

Levi is sitting on the edge of the bed. Eren is standing before him.

He wanted to test the waters before any impact play. He wanted to know their dynamic, not as just lovers, but as Dominant and submissive. He rolls the word around in his mind and examines it. Submissive. Levi as his submissive. He thinks about how it makes him feel. He wonders how it makes Levi feel. Eren lifts a hand and places a finger under Levi's chin. He swallows. It's been a while since he's done this. He was never the type to get nervous before a scene. Until now.

"Look at me."

It's a cue to start the scene. Levi looks up with eyes that are strong and trusting, mouth set in a firm line. Right from the start Eren knows what kind of submissive Levi will be, although given his nature it is not surprising.

"Good," Eren says.

Levi smirks. He's topless, showing a thin silver necklace that melds itself to the dips of his collar bones. Eren meets Levi's challenging gaze and does not waver, because while Levi might be assertive outside the bedroom, right now he is the submissive, and with Eren being his Dominant, it's Eren who makes the decisions. So he must maintain control.

"Stand, and take your pants off," Eren says, taking a step back.

Levi does as he's told, meticulously as always, folding his pants over the arm and hanging them neatly over the headboard. His fingers are graceful, and Eren is surprised by how they don’t seem to be trembling. But there are other ways to make a sub tremble. If it didn't feel so comfortable, Eren might be surprised at how well he's falling back into his role as a Dominant. It's as easy as breathing.

Levi is now wearing only grey boxers, and the outline of his cock shows he's already hard from mere anticipation. Eren surveys his body, eyes tracing every scar, the automail and the skin, every joint and curve and plane. Never has Eren seen a man so striking.

"Was that good?" Levi asks, voice cutting into Eren's thoughts.

"It was," Eren says immediately, knowing how important affirmation is for Levi. _You need to say it to me_ , he had said multiple times in their discussions leading up to their first session. _You need to tell me I'm doing it right_. Levi had avoided Eren's gaze then, a cute and subtle show of embarrassment that Eren will always be elated to see. Eren steps forward and hooks a finger beneath the elastic of Levi's boxers, then steps back to guide him away from the bed. "You did well. I expect you to keep doing that well. Kneel."

Levi exhales harshly through his nose, perhaps at the praise, the command, or both. He kneels.

Levi is strong; he is easily stronger than Eren. But strength in this case is not equivalent to muscle or fighting skill. It's mental strength. Eren can see it already, how Levi is so naturally such a strong sub. The power it takes to stand naked before another human being, completely vulnerable, is immeasurable. It takes power to trust. To submit.

Since Levi is such a _strong_ sub, Eren knows he has to be a strong Dom. He has had strong subs before, but never like Levi. He can already see that Levi is unlike anyone. For a brief moment he has the same thought he's had a few times before, and wonders if he's in over his head. He wants to be good enough—he hopes that he is—in the same way Levi is good for him.

"You look beautiful," Eren says, looking down over Levi and brushing a hand through his sleek, black hair, watching how his eyes flutter shut at the words. His fingers move along Levi's angular jaw and he rests his thumb on his bottom lip, guiding him to raise his chin and part his lips. Eren runs his thumb over the lip and Levi swipes his tongue out to moisten the pad, then smiles. It's provocative.

"Do you like it when I'm on my knees?" Levi asks.

"Yeah. A little too much." Eren drops his hands and rubs his erection through his jeans. "Fuck, you get me so hard, Levi. Look at what you fucking do to me."

"Can I touch you?" Levi's so earnest that Eren's taken aback. Just for a moment.

"Not yet." Eren steps back. As much as he would love to feel Levi's hands on him, he wants to make Levi earn it. "Touch yourself first. Through your boxers."

Levi does. He grips his cock near the head and rubs, going slow so the fabric doesn't chafe too much against the sensitive tip. Eren leans against the wall and tries to level his breathing. The room is quiet and comfortable, with Levi's breaths picking up slowly. There's a wet spot growing on Levi's boxers. His cheeks flush a gentle pink and he parts his lips to let out those soft groans that happen when he gets really turned on really fast.

"Stop," Eren tells him, immediately followed by: "Good."

Levi's chest rises and falls, his right hand fiddling with the hem of his boxers. Eren's initial plan had been to make Levi wait for it a little longer, but he must admit that he's impatient as well. He pulls his shirt off and throws it next to the bed, which leaves him in a pair of jeans and a thin black belt. He kneels in front of Levi and hooks the bottom hem of his loose boxers up over his erection, allowing it to slip through the leg hole and stand straight up, exposed and twitching as Eren ghosts his fingers over the shaft.

"Want to be touched?"

"Please." Levi's reply is instant.

Eren rewards him for the honesty and circles his fingers tight around the head of Levi's cock and works it once, twice, three times, spreading the slippery precum. Then he gives Levi one long, slow stroke down to the base of the shaft and revels in the trembling sound it draws from Levi, which could only be described as a whimper. Eren has rarely made Levi whimper.

"Fuck…" Levi's voice is low and rumbly. His hips twitch.

Then Eren lets go. Levi grits his teeth; the tension shows in his jaw and extends down his muscular neck.

Eren traces the tip of his index finger up the top side of Levi's cock, watching how it twitches when he grazes it under the round, pink head. A clear drop of precum collects at the slit and fattens until it slowly drips down, hanging from the tip, swaying with the subtle twitches of Levi's cock.

"You're fucking horny today," Eren comments, noting how Levi tries to shift to get more pressure out of Eren's tantalizingly close hand.

"You make me fucking horny. Always," Levi says back, a bit more bite to his voice than usual.

"You always get irritated when you're impatient."

"I'm not irritated," Levi says.

"You seem irritated."

Levi raises an eyebrow.

"If you tell me you're irritated"—Eren circles the head of Levi's cock with his index finger and thumb so loosely that it would feel like nearly nothing to Levi, then gives the smallest strokes that instantly have Levi squirming—"I'll touch you for real."

Levi sighs and looks away. A smile plays at Eren's lips. Only _he_ can make Levi Ackerman blush like this.

"Whatever. I'm irritated," Levi says with a roll of the eyes.

"Told you." Eren catches the curl of Levi's lip right before he tightens his grip on Levi's fat, warm cock give him quick and firm strokes. Levi presses his lips together and closes his eyes, head falling back slightly to expose his smooth, pale neck. No hickeys on the neck; that's a rule Levi has set, mainly for work purposes. (Eren, on the other hand, more often than not welcomes marks anywhere.) Leaning forward, Eren bites the skin above Levi's collarbone and sucks gently, knowing it never takes much to make Levi bruise, especially in an area with such thin skin.

When Levi's panting starts to pick up again, his hips starting to buck and his muscles tensing up, Eren lets go of Levi's cock. Satisfaction wells inside him when that makes Levi let out a few desperate sounds.

"You're always such a _fucking_ tease," Levi bites out, panting.

Eren pulls back with a light laugh and stands, leaving Levi on the floor with his tremendously hard cock hanging out the bottom of his boxers.

"I know. Don't touch yourself." Eren undoes his belt slowly, making sure Levi's watching how his long, tan fingers work over the metal belt buckle. Then he removes what's left of his clothing and sets it aside. His erection curves upward, bobbing gently, the tip shining and wet.

"This better be an invitation to touch you."

Eren hums, thinking for a moment. He runs a hand through Levi's hair and then grabs, inviting him to tilt his head back. Eren's other hand strokes his cock with deliberate, long movements. He guides the tip toward Levi's mouth, his grip on Levi's hair loosening into a gentler touch at the back of his head.

"Just with your mouth," Eren says.

Levi immediately leans forward and wraps his lips around the fat, engorged tip of Eren's cock, which wrenches a low moan deep from Eren's chest.

"Fuck, that's good," he whispers breathlessly. His eyes fall shut for a moment before he opens them again because he wants to look. There's no other sight like Levi sucking a big, hard cock, his own erection stiff and dripping between his legs, with his hands resting obediently at his sides. " _Fuuck_ , Levi," Eren mutters, feeling heat and tension build in his gut and balls.

Levi pops his wet lips off the tip and looks up at Eren, eyes dark and full of lust. "Let me use my hands."

Eren purses his lips and playfully meets Levi's eyes—steely blue. Levi's eyes are always hard to read, but he always says what he means and is clear in what he wants.

"Eren."

"Fine," Eren says, giving in. It's in these moments that Eren realizes he is never completely a Dom with Levi. Nothing is ever black and white with him. But the complexity is what shapes who Levi is. Eren levels himself and focuses on the pleasure Levi is giving him The feeling of Levi's hand massaging Eren's balls, his lips and tongue working near the base of his cock, moving the tip into the back of his squeezing throat—it's fucking incredible.

"God, don't stop." Eren moans and runs both hands through Levi's thick black hair, feeling the soft shaved part of his undercut. "Keep going until I cum."

Levi hums and takes Eren deep into his throat, opening up his throat around the cockhead. Eren moans, cursing quietly and shifting his hips slightly back and forth, enjoying how warm and wet Levi's mouth is. Levi pulls off to swallow the precum and saliva, glancing up at Eren and smirking, lips swollen, before taking Eren's cock back between his lips. Tension builds in Eren's thighs and his knees threaten to buckle. Feeling Eren's cock throb, Levi groans and rubs his tongue back and forth under the head as he bobs up and down.

"F—aah, _Levi_." Eren grunts. His fingers tighten in Levi's hair and it grows increasingly difficult to keep his hips still, tension in his lower abdomen building until—"Fuck. Gonna cum," he says through grit teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. Levi's lips stay sealed around Eren's cock and he slides down to the base so the first spurts of Eren's cum hit the back of his throat. "Yeah, fuck, I'm cumming— _mmh_." His cock throbs as he cums, and he opens his eyes to watch Levi swallow the last of it. A rough groan, some panting, and then it's nothing but sheer quiet encasing the room. The light of the soft lamp highlights the wateriness of Levi's eyes.

He pulls Eren's cock out of his mouth and looks up at him, chest rising and falling, lips blood red and beautiful.

"You like that?" Levi's smile is faint and glows with something devious.

"You know I fucking do," Eren says roughly, running his fingers through Levi's hair and smoothing it back down. "You did…fuck, you did so fucking good. Get on the bed." Ghosting his fingers across Levi's smooth, pale waist when he stands, Eren steps closer, then tightens his grip to turn Levi around. He kisses up the side of his neck and whispers, "I'm gonna reward you."

"Good," Levi says, voice like a mellow purr.

They plan for this; they always do, and Levi gets nice and clean and knows to expect it. He shucks off his boxers, gets on the bed, and immediately arches his back when Eren guides him to bend at his waist, raising his ass so Eren can easily sit back and flick his tongue around Levi's asshole.

"Yes. Levi pushes back into it. Eren moans, giving Levi everything he wants, not teasing at all. "Eren," Levi says, "I want to be spanked too."

So Eren gives him that. He sits back and delivers a firm spank to the meatiest part of Levi's ass cheek, then gives the other the same thing before going back in to press his tongue to Levi's asshole and licking side to side. Levi groans and lowers his head onto the bed, one hand reaching down to stroke his cock, which only makes him louder. Keeping Levi's ass spread, strong hands stopping him from squirming, Eren licks at Levi's hole until he's trembling and panting loudly.

To give his tongue a break, Eren stops and rests, tracing a hand down Levi's back and smiling at how he arches back and shows he wants more. With a full palm, Eren delivers a quick slap to Levi's ass and the squeezes the flesh and muscle, watching how the redness spreads across the skin under his palm.

Levi's breath stutters. "Keep going," he says into the sheets.

Eren gives him a couple more spanks. This is nothing they haven't done before, but the context changes the meaning of the pain. Eren gauges Levi's reaction as he starts to deliver more force than what they are normally used to. Levi's hand speeds up on his cock.

"Fuck, I might cum, hold on," he says breathlessly.

"Roll over," Eren says. A command. Levi doesn't even think twice about following. "You make a good sub." That makes Levi's eyes flash with satisfaction, and a smirk plays at his lips.

"You knew I would."

"Well, I wouldn't say…" Eren teases. Before Levi can retaliate he takes hold of his hot, hard cock and delivers quick strokes that make Levi let out a contented sigh.

"Fuck," Levi mutters, stretching out on the bed and letting his legs extend. The muscles of his body ripple, showing the strength he houses in him, every fibre a weapon. "Fuck, Eren, that feels fucking good."

"Mm. Good." Eren works his hand deftly over Levi's shaft, slippery with precum. Levi is never the type to be very loud, but he can never mask the changes in his breathing, or the redness of his skin. His paleness always gives away everything from slight blushes on the cheek to a flushed chest and neck.

"Oh— _Eren_." Levi's abs tense and release, and his fingers tighten in the sheets right as he cums all over his lower abdomen with a shaky, breathy noise. Eren traces Levi's body up and down the flank, stroking his twitching cock through the aftershocks of his orgasm until he is nearly still aside from the rise and fall of his chest.

The only sound in the room is their breathing, the echoes of pleasure, and the silence of meeting gazes. Levi's eyes are warm, the way they get after a particularly nice orgasm or sweet fuck. Eren smiles and pushes his hair out of his eyes, then leans in and kisses the inside of Levi's thigh.

"Scene," Eren says, tender in a way that makes Levi blush and avoid his gaze.

 

**Author's Note:**

> my mind while editing, every time I read Eren say "look at me": _fuck on me, yuh_
> 
> anyways  
> So I've been drifting in and out of this fandom since around 2013 but I've never formally participated in it, so I'm happy to officially have contributed something. It's been about two years since I've written anything at all. A little rustier in some places than others, but I'm getting back into the swing of it. I would love to hear your thoughts on this, good and bad
> 
> Next chapter is anal and flogging. that's a fucking promise


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